I wasn’t always a Patriots fan. I was an Army brat and rooted for the New York Giants, the Denver Broncos and Buffalo Bills before I moved to New Hampshire to finish off an unnecessarily overwrought BA degree in English Literature. Naturally, I got a job in information technology by converting a work study position into a programming position. The rest is history, as they say.
Anyway, along the way I rooted for Steve Grogan. Stanley Morgan. Those were kind of tragic years. So close in so many games. Lovable, overachieving underdogs. Tony Eason. That was a tough offense to get excited about. It was the inoffensive offense. How did they actually get to the Super Bowl to play sacrificial lambs to the ‘85 Bears? Like, nobody else wanted that gig. That was a tough Sunday.
Of course, every Sunday was a tough Sunday back in the day when I was a Denver Broncos fan. Thankfully, I’m pretty sure there were only 14 games in a season back. With the regular season done I would pick a new champion for the playoffs. I sub-rooted for the Kansas City Chiefs because the enemy of my enemy - the Oakland Raiders - is my friend. I even wound up rooting for the New York Jets once; Super Bowl III.
When I was a mere lad, if the Broncos won just two games and those two wins came at home against the Raiders and the San Diego Chargers then it was a good year. The Broncos of my youth were usually in the 4-10-0 to 5-9-0 range. They were not a good football team. They had Floyd Little, who was great, but he didn’t have whole lot of help. There was this incredible (if brief) time with Marlin the Magician Briscoe at quarterback. I remember Briscoe running what was basically a quarterback sneak from the 10-yard line and scoring easily. I thought he’d become a new paradigm at the position. Think about a LeSean McCoy who could throw. A little. (Too soon with the McCoy reference? Sorry. I think you pour the vodka directly into the wound.) Was Briscoe simply ahead of his time? Then again, he was small for the position. He was even small as a wide receiver. Whatever. Those were good times.
Not winning times. But good times.
I think about that and how easily I accepted 4-10-0 to 5-9-0.
It’s so much better now that it hurts when my team loses.
Think about it. The Patriots are on pace for 12-4-0. Again. 12-4-and-freakin-0! Again! I need to take a deep breath and hold it… hold it… hold it… and… exhale.
Yeah. Still. Sunday was tough.
I’m totally on to Cleveland. Seriously. And totally.
And I’m fueled by the pain of last Sunday. I never want to feel like that again. Not that I can really do anything about it. (And, yes, I am prepared to feel like that three more times this season.) Anyway, I’m emotionally raw right now. I’m Travis just before he found out Chris was dead on “Fear the Walking Dead.” A loss in Cleveland - with Tom back - might be more than my pigskin psyche can take. I would begin to doubt the very nature of reality. Has someone messed with the matrix? Okay. It’s not quite that bad. It’s not like I’d kill a man in Reno just to watch him die or anything. That Travis thing was just an analogy. Or a metaphor. Whatever. My point is I wasn’t being serious about the Travis thing. But… Dude just straight up went off! Am I right? He was amazing. Spectacular. I’m hanging with that guy in the zombie apocalypse for sure.
Let me say for the record: I know what Travis did was wrong. It was wrong and I do not condone it.
I cannot deny, however, that it was deeply satisfying as well. Brandon and Derek will not be missed. As for the collateral damage, why are you trying to stop Travis? At least wait for him to get farther away from the door.
Perhaps it just came at the right time for me. After that game on Sunday, a game we shall always know around these parts in the years to come as “That Game,” I needed something; something like Travis beating Brandon and Derek to death. Something exactly like Travis curb stomping Brandon and Derek to death.
Life is all about balance.
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